Through the Tear
by iiMaddHats
Summary: Rosalind pulled Robert though the tear. But what were the consequence of that? Slight spoilers for the game. Slight Robert/Rosalind Please R
1. Chapter 1

The tear was not stable. Not stable at all. It was wobbly and a bit fuzzy. But it was there. Robert Lutece stood before it. The tear was to a lab that looked much like his own. The same tables, same chalkboard with the same mathematical formulas, just as cluttered. The one thing that differed, the one thing, was the person staring at him through the tear. They, like him, had red hair, a pointed face, and even wore the same color clothing as he. But the person standing through the tear was a woman.

Robert raised a hand and gave a small wave. "Rosalind?" The woman was beaming. Robert started to smile as well. He… She… They had done it. They had opened a door to another reality. Another world. And the woman before him, was him. In every way. The exact same genetic code. The only difference was that he had a Y chromosome and she an X.

She drew closer to the tear, examining the edges of the tear. "It's going to close soon." Robert took a step forward.

"I'll try and stabilize it from this side." He began trying to balance the machine that had been maintaining the field. The hole between worlds not only continued wobbling, but it got worse. Robert swore under his breath and returned to the tear. "It's not working. " The tear began to give off a light crackling sound so that he had to nearly shout to his other self.

Rosalind didn't speak for a moment. She had a hand on her chin, loosing herself in thought. Robert approached the tear, studying the female version of him. She really did look like him. Her body languages, her sharp features, all were the same as his. Even her freckles that neither of them had grown out of were in the same places. He took another step closer to the hole, his nose almost brushing the portal. In this time, Rosalind had also gotten closer to the tear as well.

Her blue eyes met his when she finally removed her had from her chin. The pair of them were inches apart now. Robert's eyes followed the outline of the circular tear. It was going to snap shut any moment now if they didn't do something. Rosalind broke eye contact with him now, her eyes flicking back and forth.

She lunged, forcing through the tear. Robert tried to back up, but Rosalind caught him by the wrists. Normally he would have been able to yank back and free himself from her grasp, but catching him off guard wasn't his strongest moment.

Rosalind pulled, causing him stumble through the tear. He slammed forward landing hard on Rosalind's lab floor; she released his wrists, backing away from him. She turned to her version of the machine that was sustaining the tear and shut it down. Robert rolled onto his back just in time to see the door to his world vanish. He jumped up.

"What in god's name was th-" he froze. Robert lifted a hand to his upper lip and pulled it back to examine it. Warm red liquid was running from his nose. A sharp pain, like a tug on one of his optic nerves, was shooting through his head. He began to sway back and forth.

Rosalind took a step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to steady him. Robert tried to focus on her, but his vision was fuzzy and a sound like a crackling record rang in his ears. His glanced about madly, as Rosalind slung his arm over her shoulder, trying to support him.

He tried to take a step, but his legs gave way under him and he started towards the ground again, but Rosalind pulled him up higher, his head lolling against her neck. She dragged his form with her, muttering something to him but Robert couldn't understand. Maybe his brain wasn't processing what she was saying.

He tried to walk, but his brain signals weren't traveling to the rest of his body. His mind was crowded, over crowded. There were memories that weren't his own. Were they Rosalind's? There was… a floating city… Impossible… But it made perfect sense. It was created using the partial… The one that they had used to make contact. He squeezed his eyes shut, the crackling was loud, to loud. Anything that Rosalind had been saying was completely lost to him now. All he could here was the broken record's sounds. Robert slumped against her even more heavily now.

His eyes fluttered open and closed. The world sliding in and out of focus. Rosalind was calling for someone and he felt his other arm being hoisted onto another pair of shoulders, his jaw falling to his chest. Robert went completely limp and allowed himself to be dragged. He was muttering something… Columbia… Columbia…. Over and over. What in gods name was Columbia? His head was going to explode. The thoughts that weren't his pounded against his skull.

Robert was heaved onto what felt like a bed, but maybe it was a couch, or even a very soft table. His hands, now freed from Rosalind's and the strangers shoulders, covered his ears trying to block out the crackling sound. "Shut up, shut up, shut up," he was almost shouting now.

He felt a hand on his face and allowed his eyes to open the smallest crack. Above him, Rosalind was pressing a cloth under his nose, trying to mop up the blood. What right did she have to touch him? It was her fault that this was happening. She had been the one to drag him into this world. These were her memories plaguing his mind. Robert drew a hand away from his ears and swatted her hand away.

Her face, already filled with worry, fell. Not that he much cared. This was her doing. Robert rolled over on the maybe bed, continuing to try and drown out the sound. More memories were flooding into his mind… Comstock? And who was this fellow with the top hat and mustache? Oh god…. Religion. Religion now. It hurt.

Robert was not sure how long he lay there, willing for the awful sound to stop, for the memories to stop invading his mind, before he lapsed into a comatose sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey people that are reading this, I'm glad you like it so far! haha... So this is my first story on this site and yada yada yada. This chapter focuses on Rosalind but i feel that she may be a bit ooc... I apologize in advance. And i apologize for any type-o's if you see any just comment or message me and i'll try to get them fixed up. **

**xCandyCharmx: Yep, that's why i posted it! These two need more love**

**bren97122: Yeah, but that's not really the main focus of the story, but it will be in there. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own bioshock or the Lutece's no matter how much i wish i did...**

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Rosalind never left his side. Even after he had used all his will to slap her away. She never left him. She waited by his bedside with nothing more than a glass of water, not for herself but for him if he woke. She shifted her weight back and forth in the armchair she was seated in. It was her fault; she wasn't about to deny that. She had acted irrationally, allowing her desire to be with someone who may finally understand her over shadow her logic. It was childish of her.

Stupid.

She removed several pins from her already disheveled hair, allowing it to fall about her freckled face. Really she hated having her hair down but it was already a mess so it really wasn't much of a difference. Rosalind leaned over the bed, trying to comb her hair into a manageable state with her long fingers. Robert had somehow managed to fall asleep. Being as delicate as she could, Rosalind rolled him onto his back. His bloody nose had run everywhere, down his face, onto his shirt and tie, smeared over the pillows and he had even somehow managed to get blood into his fiery hair.

Most of the red water was dried now, except a little around his nose, but it appeared that most of the bleeding had stopped. Rosalind called the butler, the man who had helped her get Robert into bed before, to fetch a wet rag and a bucket of warm water. She might as well at least try and get some of the blood. She doubted that he would let her help him after he awoke.

Using the rag, she ever so gently began to wipe blood off his cheeks. This roll felt forging to her, the caretaker. She was the physicist, the thinker, not the motherly type at all. So why did she even have the urge to clean up this man? Maybe it was her narcissistic personality. In a way, he was her. So taking care of him was, in a way, taking care of herself. Nothing more. Oh how self-obsessed could she be if the one person that she could really show sympathy to was herself.

She dunked the blood filled rag into the bucket, sending swirled of light pink over its clear surface. She returned to her 'patient'. While most of the blood was gone from his cheeks and hairline, thick coagulated patches still remained over his lips and just under his nose. Rosalind went to work, gently trying to loosen the dried blood from his face without waking him.

She couldn't even pretend to know what he had felt upon coming from his world to hers. When he first arrived, he had seemed perfectly fine, given he was a bit angry that she had dragged him into her world. But then he just started bleeding all over and collapsed. And what was he muttering about Columbia. Maybe there had been another floating city in his reality? Possibly… And why had he been shouting 'Shut up'… Did he here something she could not? So many questions.

Again, she rung the rag out in the water, which had turned a rather pleasant shade of pink. Nearly all of the blood was gone now and she could see her other for what he really looked like. She had gotten a glance at him when they opened the tear but not really a close up inspection. He bore a similar facial structure to her but there were heavy lines around the corners of his mouth, as if he may have frowned a bit two much that she did not possess. Rosalind also noticed that the indent in her chin was much deeper than Roberts. Really it wasn't much of a difference between them; it wasn't as if she expected to be identical in every single way. Still, she took note of it.

With him cleaned up, she returned to her chair, resting her head against her hand. "I'm sorry you know." She muttered to the unconscious Robert. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did." Rosalind shook her head knowing that he couldn't here a word she was saying.

She allowed herself a small smile, wondering if the dream she had had as a little girl was, in a strange way, true. Robert was her and at the same time, not her. It was odd. Rosalind had called him Brother even before she had pulled him into the reality, when they were using the partial for communication. Of course she had never told him that over the mores code of the particle, only in her voxophones and in her mind. But was Brother really the correct title for him?

He was her, and not her, they shared the exact same DNA, they had the same parents, but they were not raised together. It was quite possible that Rosalind knew absolutely nothing about him. What if in his reality he had not had the dream of seeing himself looking at the not himself in the room? Or did he have some other reason for pursuing a life of physics. Did his mother die, as hers did when he was fifteen? Or did his mother still live. So many question, and only he could answer them.

Rosalind pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind. There was no point in pursuing random questions that could not be answered when her Brother was like this. She glanced at the clock on the wall and rose from her chair. Robert would be fine like this. He was only sleeping.

She was going to leave the room, but then paused. What if something did happen? What if he died in his sleep or what if he was somehow pulled back into his own reality? No she wouldn't leave him. Rosalind returned to her chair.

Rosalind did not nod off. No, she stayed awake, watching Robert draw shallow breaths, waiting for something to happen. She sat for at least another hour, maybe more; she tried to avoid looking at the clock, when he finally stirred. He rolled over, one hand pressed to his face, thumb and forefinger pressing on his eyes. She sat bolt up right. The questions that she had been asking herself, all of them, they could be, would be answered.

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**Forgot to mention that the appearance of the Twins are based on some of the concept art I have seen and the game, it's just i needed a few differenced in their appearance that the game did not have, that and the concept art had more freckles on them than the game. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! People are enjoying this! With that said, i do have to say, i hate this chapter... It's more of a transition chapter to what i have planned for later on so it needs to be there but nothing really happens. So i am sorry if you hate it, but please stick with me! And i apologize for not getting this up earlier today, i will try and do a chapter a day or at least every other day but no promises.**

**CaliforniaStop: Dont let me writing this stop you! And yes, i thought that Rosalind seemed like the one that was more out for herself as opposed to Robert, even though their the same person...**

**xCharmCandyx: Here you go!**

**If anyone has ideas on what they would like to see out of the Lutece's please post them in the reviews or pm me!**... And i dont own Bioshock

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The bed was not the most comfortable thing in the world, that he noticed first off. The next thing he noticed was that everywhere hurt. From the tips of his toes to his cramping neck, but in particular, his head. It felt like a hammer was pounding on the inside. But the sound had stopped. He could here his own breathing and the quite 'tick-tick-tick' of a clock. Robert rolled over onto his side.

His other was seated across from him, starting at him intently. He had to admit, that even though he had been brought here against his will, that looking at another version of himself was fascinating. He scanned her up and down. She no longer looked worried, but instead interested. Her eyes lit up with what little light filled the room.

Robert was the first to speak. "What time is it?"

Rosalind, who had been doing everything to keep her eyes off the clock, finally gave in. "Two in the morning."

Robert frowned; she must have been up this entire night watching him. Not because she was worried, oh no, because she was intrigued. At least that's what he figured. Robert would not have stayed up for anything unless it fascinated him. So she must be the same way. He asked another question, "Why did you do it?"

Rosalind never broke eye contact. "It was either this or possibly never see you again. I simply could not risk it." Her face remained neutral, but here eyes seemed sharp as broken glass.

He returned her harsh stare, "We could have reopened it. We were both there, it's not like we-"

She cut him off. "Couldn't communicate." Robert shot her a glare. "What if we couldn't? I couldn't risk it." Robert grimaced. She had no right, no right. "But it was a mistake. I didn't expect you to start hemorrhaging, but that seems to be over now."

"Over? Over?" Robert was doing his best to keep his voice level. It seemed that every little move he made caused his body to send another signal to his already aching mind. "Memories that aren't mine flooded my brain."

This caught her attention. Questions began flying from her lips. 'What memories, what did it feel like, is that what caused you to collapse,' and so on. Robert did his best to keep up with her, which wasn't that hard really, he spoke nearly as fast as she did.

"This is wonderful," Rosalind exclaimed clasping her hands together. Robert raised a brow; he could hardly call a massive bloody nose and her memories filling his head wonderful. "But of course we will need to do more research. But I don't really understand how it could even hap-"

It was his turn to cut her off, "It happened because I don't exist in this world. My mind, trying to make sense, drew from my own memories but since those don't exactly exist in this reality, my mind adopted some of your memories. The one's that I retained from my world mixed with what I formulated from this world and made new memories." He paused, not sure how he understood it all but he did. "At least that's my theory on the subject…"

Rosalind started at him, eyes dancing. "So, did the collisions of our minds in your brain result in you being able to understand this memory fusion?" Robert nodded. She allowed a small smile to grace her mouth. "Brother, I am sorry that I did that, if there is someway to send you back I will."

Robert opened his mouth and then paused. What had she just called him?

" 'Brother'?" he repeated. He may have been mistaken, but he swore that Rosalind blushed ever so little.

"It was a… name I gave you," she broke eye contact suddenly finding her shoes much more interesting than him. "It was before I knew that you were called Robert."

Robert repeated to word again, " 'Brother'…" The word felt odd on his tongue. He had never had any siblings and this other him was not about to be one. "I would prefer if you didn't call me that."

Rosalind looked up. "Of course, R-Robert." She rose from her chair. "I do have many questions thought. And I'd rather not wait. Would you mind if I asked you them… now?"

"Aren't you tired?" Robert cocked his head slightly to the side. She shook her head. "Me neither." Although he was sore everywhere and a migraine was most likely beginning to develop, he couldn't resist the opportunity to question his female self. Rosalind then left the room to retrieve a notebook, one for her and one for him, leaving Robert alone.

Not for long, mind you, but it did let Robert's mind wander back to how him being trapped in the bed was Rosalind's fault. A twinge of anger now accompanied his interest, but before it could grow into rage, Rosalind returned, notebooks in one arm and in the other was a fresh change of clothes. She handed them to him.

"You may want to change out of those," she gestured to his now brownish red tie that had at one point been a green. Robert took them and removed the blood stained tie. Rosalind didn't move, but instead studied him intently, writing something in one of the notebooks.

Robert paused, partly because moving any part of his body hurt and partly because she wasn't going anywhere. "Um… Do you mind?"

"Really Robert?" she continued scribbling something down, "We're the same person so what does it matter."

Robert scowled, "You wouldn't like it if I was watching you change, now would you?"

"It's purely academic, nothing more," she gave him a small wave as if she wanted him to continue. Robert set his jaw but seeing how she wasn't about to leave, dressed as quickly as he could. As he did, Rosalind began asking more questions at an even faster speed than before. They were all involving his past, and his experiences. He would quickly counter her questions with his own and jotting down the answers in his notebook.

Robert was not sure how reliable the answers he was giving were. His mind was polluted with her thoughts and her memories. He wasn't sure if he was giving an answer based on his own thoughts or hers. Robert did his best to sort them out but so many of the memories seemed to have merged in his brain, he wasn't sure if he could ever separate them.

From the answers she gave him, he was able to determine some of his thoughts as hers and cast them away but others, he knew were his own and were also hers. They had most likely had the same experiences as one another and that was why, not the memories bleeding over.

Rosalind, at five sixteen a.m., let out a yawn, the first sign of exhaustion that she had shown all night. Robert, at five seventeen a.m., also allowed himself a yawn. The pair, no matter how smart and how fascinated they may be with one another, were only human. Rosalind bid him goodnight, or good morning, she wasn't sure which to say, and finally left Robert alone with his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, sorry it's been a while. I know that i said that i would try and update every day but that's not looking like it's gonna happen... Sorry. :( But thank you for all that are enjoying this story! So much love. Please R&R it really helps me get inspired.**

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He was the first one up in the morning. Robert only slept another two hours and woke again. He was still sore, but he didn't really let that bother him. Robert, although the conversation last night had been stimulating, didn't think he could stay with Rosalind another moment. He couldn't find anything he liked about her. She was to into herself and only out for her own benefit. But if that's what she was like, wasn't he exactly the same?

Robert shrugged of the idea, keeping her and him labeled as two separate entities in his mind. Even if they had the same genetic code and had lead similar lives that did not make them the same person. Identical twins had the same code and similar lives and were not the same. Why should they be any different?

The home was not at all like his own. Rosalind lived in a two story flat; with the machine to generate the Lutece Tear built in her living room. It was pleasant, and perhaps he could see himself living here but it still felt unfamiliar. The machine that lived in the main room did fascinate him though.

It was in nearly identical to his own. It was tall and metallic with long metal cords running all around the house, all hooked into their own power source. The top of the invention had busted through the second floor where even more power coils had been attached. Robert smirked at this. His own design did not extend into his next floor but instead was built into the celling of his basement. It seemed to him that this monstrosity of a machine was thrown together in the fastest way possible, as if it had been constructed for only this one purpose.

He began looking for ways to repower the thing. If it was like his, there would be a panel on the right. No such luck. No, this panel was affixed to the left of the machine. Robert began to hit the switches that he knew would allow his own to power up.

The power coils began sparked to life. This would work. A few more switches. A large spark shot from one of the coils. He would be back in his world in a few moments and he would never here from his female self again. An even bigger spark. He was thankful for Rosalind building her machine just like his, it made his escape much easier. At the center of the machine a small crack appeared, he smiled. He took a step towards the forming gap as the machine continued to spark and crackle.

The tear began to grow, stretching into a shaky circle. Yes. Almost home. The hole was almost half his height, maybe if he ducked then he'd be able to get through but he'd rather not get caught between. He could see his world. His lab. Oh, so close.

There was a lout pop, and the tear, he door to home, snapped shut. Robert's heart lurched in his chest. Oh god. What had he done wrong? Shit. Shit. Shit. He maddening began flipping the switches on and off, praying for the tear to reopen. Click. Click. Click. A small spark fell from it, but no tear.

Robert slammed his fists into the console. "Damnit!" The nubs of the switches dug into his palm. What had he done wrong? The was how his worked, he had the pattern memorized. Another slam. He was never going to get out of here. He was acting irrational. If he wasn't he wouldn't have done what he did.

He left.

The only place he had seen in this new universe, and he left it. Through the front door. It was easy. Not locked, or anything. He just opened the door and left.

It was barely seven in the morning, but the cityscape before him was already coming to life. Vendors were setting up their shops and men dressed in suits rushing to work. The second class was even finishing up cleaning the streets. Robert closed the door a quietly as he could behind him.

He adjusted his collar, the clothes that she had given him were really not the best fitting and he was missing a tie. He combed a hand through his bedraggled hair trying to smooth it to his head. Not the best, but he looked passable. The walls he had put up in his head were starting to come down as he walked, everything on this… Columbia began filling his brain again. He knew about Comstock and how he was in charge of the city and the layout of the roads.

But there was stuff there that he didn't want. Rosalind's formulas for the floating city, interesting but unneeded, something about Fink. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head, the slight crackling starting to return.

Robert breathed deep, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had what he needed, now just separate the memories back out. Slowly, the beginning migraine resided into a dull pain in the base of his skull. He pulled back his hand. His nose had started bleeding again.

He smeared be blood away and continued down the street. He would go talk to this Comstock fellow, he was the one who financed her experiments after all. Maybe he could get her to open the tear again.

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**Sorry this one's so short, the next one will be longer, I promise! **


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